Gorecki
by funnygirl00
Summary: Steve wasn't alone after Bucky rescued him. She was there. Ms. Calantha Jones, a bitter and lonely woman. Steve, resolves to help her, taking advantage of her blindness, Steve attempts to bring her out of her 'darkness,' without revealing his identity. Feelings start to stir, but then the unthinkable happens. And Calantha wonders if she has the strength to cross one more mountain.
1. 1: Blindly saving a stranger

**This story actually came to me in day. I'd gone with my brother to see The winter soldier and I embarrassed him by screaming in terror at one part of the movie. (Silly, but I just wasn't expecting it.) Later that evening, I watched Torchwood for the first time and I'd gone through a few episodes. I believe the 2nd episode had the song 'Gorecki' by 'Lamb' in there. The line, 'all this time I've loved you, and never seen your face,' just really struck a chord with me and here is the result. I am working on another story, but I prefer working on 2 stories at once so if I get writer's block I've got something to fall back on. **

**This story is for Lady of the witty and Lokisawesome. Thank you for making a POTO girl feel welcome in the Avenger's fandom. I own nothing, except for Calantha.**

* * *

Chapter one: Blindly saving a stranger

* * *

The loud explosions caused Calantha Jason to jump in terror. Her heart had been pounding dreadfully in the last half-hour. She pulled out her cell phone and again dialed her trusty chauffer, Nathan, who'd she'd affectionately called Nat. He answered immediately. _Calantha? I am so sorry. We are completely blocked off. Things are going crazy!_

She gasped. "What do I do Nat!? What do I do!?"

_Get out of the forest. If you can…make it to the river, try to find some shelter._

"I'm scared!" Another loud crunching causes her to jump in terror. She moves aside just as a branch falls where she was standing moments ago. She screams again. "Nat!"

_I'm trying to get to you. Calantha, be-_

Then his phone cut out again. Calantha stepped cautiously forward, hands in front of her so she could 'see' where she was going. There were explosions, vast explosions going on almost right up above her head. She moved forward, the Potomac River was almost 100 steps from this spot if she recalled correctly. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear any other sounds, apart from the explosions. For her, that was dangerous, because her ears were the only things that could protect her. For Calantha Jones, was blind and she never need a hero more than she did in this moment.

She listened to the rushing water as she approached it. She turned slightly to the side and walked forward, so she could walk alongside the water, giving her a direction. If her memory served her right, there should be a bridge straight ahead somewhere. She'd taken no more than four steps before falling flat on her face. She tripped over something, something wet and soft. Curious, she knelt down to touch the object when it groaned. She gasped as her hands told her that someone was lying there.

Upon closer examination, she realized that it was a man. Since she couldn't see him, she asked him. "Are you hurt?" There was no response, only another groan and a slurred sound. "I'm blind, so, I might get a little friendly while I check you for injuries." She checked the head first, finding no signs of bleeding, she examined his face. She could feel that he had a swollen eye and a deep cut on the left side of his mouth.

The sound of crunching footsteps caused her to look up. "Is someone there?" No answer. "I can hear you. Will you please help me? I'm blind and I can't see his injuries." The footsteps paused, but only for a moment before turning and running away. She couldn't believe it. The man was possibly dying and this person didn't even stop to help her!

She ran her hands carefully over his chest, checking his ribs, and then her fingers made contact with his abdomen. She gasped as she felt the blood on his chest. She knew it was blood because it was sticky and when she lifted her fingers up to her nose, she could smell it.

She spoke into her phone as she pulled off her silk under slip to press against the wound. "Dial 911." Her phone obeyed as she pressed the slip against the wound. "Oh, I wished I'd paid more attention to first aid." She muttered. "I hope I'm doing the right thing."

_911, what is your emergency?_

"I'm somewhere on the Potomac River line, there's a man, he's been shot in the abdomen. I'm not sure if he's been shot anywhere else."

_How can you not be sure? _

"I'm blind. I looked as best as I could with my hands. I'm applying pressure to his wound to stop the bleeding."

_Right, that's good. The paramedics are on their way. It might take a while, the city is in chaos. Do you know what happened?_

"No. I think I stumbled into a murder attempt in progress. There was someone here, but they left and didn't help."

_And they let you go?_

"I fell over his body, so they knew I was blind, probably figured I wouldn't be any trouble. Judging by what my hands are telling me, the victim is in a uniform of sorts. He could be a soldier as well, I'm not sure." She heard footsteps approaching and she looked up towards the sound. "Hello? Who's there? Is it you?"

_What is it ma'am? Are you all right?_

"Steve!"A man ran up to her, his footsteps pounding in the sand. "Ma'am, is help on the way?"

"Yes!" She held out her phone. "If you could give them more explicit directions I'm sure they'd appreciate it."

"I thought you said help was on the way." The man sounded confused.

"It is! I'm blind though, so all they know is that I'm somewhere on the edge of the Potomac River."

"Right." He sounded slightly embarrassed. "Sorry about that."

The man took her phone and began speaking to the 911 operator. She brought her hand down the man's arm to grasp onto his hand. She held it spoke clearly to him. "Help is on the way; just hang in there, ok?" He didn't say anything, but she felt him grip her hand for a moment before relaxing his grip completely.

The man approached her. "They're on their way now, should be here any minute now." He knelt down beside her. "You've done a good job of controlling the bleeding."

"Does he have any more injuries?"

"A bunch of cuts, bruises and two more bullet wounds that I can see. But you've got the injury that really needs the attention under control. My name is Sam."

"Calantha Jones. I'd shake your hand if I wasn't holding this….cloth in place." She cleared her throat, vexed to find herself on borderline blushing."Is Steve going to be ok?"

"He looks pretty bad at the moment," the man chuckled. "but rest assured, it takes a lot to kill this man." At the sound of sirens, he stands up. "Here they come."

She exhales in relief. "Thank God."

"Calantha?" She whips around at the sound of Nathan's voice in the distance.

"There's a man running towards us, 30's, brown hair, green eyes. Do you know him?"

"I know the voice, not the description though. Yes, he's my bodyguard of sorts. I'm a writer and I often write here in these woods, it's very peaceful. Well, I should specify that I don't write, I speak into my phone and I use a special program at home that causes it to type it on the computer for me. Nathan double checks it and monitors my Facebook page and all internet related things."

"I see." Sam kneels and places his hand over hers. "Stand up and walk straight ahead, I'll take care of Steve."

"Ok. I've got a Facebook page, please, let me know if he's all right. I'm a writer so, my page should be fairly easy to find. Not to mention, who else has my name?"

"I will."

"And please, don't mention me, I'd prefer to remain anonymous."

Sam hesitated for a moment. "I don't know if I can do that ma'am. Steve's going to want to meet you."

"I'd rather pass. In my lifetime I've had enough instances of people wanting to thank me and their thanks always turns into pity when they realize I'm blind."

"Steve's not like that."

"Please, do not tell him about me. Promise me. I helped him because he needed it. I don't want to meet him."

Sam exhaled deeply. "Fine. I promise. Now, you better get going, your guard is being restrained."

"Thank you for letting me know. God bless."

"Ok, bye."

She smiled and shuffled slowly forward, listening carefully for Nathan's voice. Someone, a paramedic, did eventually spot her and help her safely towards Nathan.

He immediately herded her into the car, all the while describing an attack on three helicarriers. Captain America evidentially took all three of them down with a couple of other agents. She tuned him out and closed her eyes as stress and exhaustion swamped her body. Within fifteen minutes, she was sound asleep. But then, she awoke to Nathan shaking her awake.

"Calantha," she was on the couch in her apartment. She could smell the familiar scent of honeysuckle candles in the room. "I'm so sorry to wake you up. But there's a message for you on Facebook from a Sam Wilson. He's got your phone….and he says if you want it back….you have to go down to the hospital."


	2. 2: Mr Steve Rogers

Chapter two: Mr. Steve Rogers

* * *

"Thank you Nat," Calantha said as she moved towards the door. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

"I'll be outside the room." Nathan says as he shifts uncomfortably. "Call me if you need me."

She snorts. "Just go get the receptionist's number, all right? I'll be fine."

Nathan chuckles. "You can see right through me can't you?"

"I'm blind not deaf. I'm wagering she's a cute little red-head, you always loved red-heads."

He chuckles. "Spot on again. You're the next Sherlock Holmes in a dress. You're equally impressive because you don't need to see to know what's up."

She smiles and rolls her eyes. "Go on. You know flattery get's you nowhere with me."

"Yeah." She can imagine him nodding his head. "But it's so much fun to annoy you."

She turns and walked into the hospital room, which is a short distance away. The light is streaming in brightly; she can feel the warmth of the rays on her face. She can hear 'lonesome man' by Marvin Gaye playing in the room. "On your left." She pauses at the sound of the tired, unfamiliar male voice.

Sam chuckles. "You woke up Steve, just in time."

She stands there as Steve groans slightly in pain, but the curiosity is evident in his voice. "Who's this?" She smoothes her jacket top, hopefully giving her somewhat of a professional appearance.

"Oh, this is Calantha Jason, she's a writer. She forgot her phone." Sam approaches her and she holds out her hand for it. "Here you go."

"Thank you." She sticks her phone inside her coat pocket as she turns towards the general direction of where she'd heard Steve's voice. "I hope that you recover soon." She turned slowly to make a hasty retreat from the room she'd just entered. She now felt as if she'd walked into a trap and she had to get out. "I must go." Truth was, she wanted to get out before he started all the senseless 'gushing' of gratefulness.

"Wait." Steve says tiredly from his bed. "You're….the girl who….stayed with me, weren't you?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "Yes, I was."

"Thank you ma'am."

She frowns slightly as she turns to face him. "Why do you say ma'am? Do I look married?"

She can't see his expression, but she can imagine that it must have been a good one. Sam, however, finds his voice before Steve does. "He's in the military."

I know that." She now feels uncomfortable as she was coming off as rude. "It was a joke, but my jokes always stink. Unless you're a Doctor Who fan, then you'd know that joke. Well, I've got to be going."

"Why?" Steve asks. "You in a hurry or something?"

She pauses. "Not really, I'm a writer. Therefore, we're always in a hurry to do what most people deem to be absolutely nothing. Unless you've an appreciation for the arts, then you'd understand." She clears her throat. "You've been shot and you should rest. I shouldn't be here disturbing your peace."

"So…will I see you again?"

"Probably not." Her tone sounds cruel so she explains. "I am not a people person."

"I guessed that ma'am… er, miss, I mean."

She dips her head. "I rarely leave my flat except to go to the opposite of the Potomac River, which I daresay, is probably in shambles since Captain America took those…carriers down. Probably won't be able to write down there for a week."

"Try a month." Sam says dryly. "It's a big mess."

She shrugs. "Figures. I get my best inspiration there. It's the only private place I have, other than my room. Oh well, at least I'm alive."

"It certainly is. Now, you mentioned that you're a writer. Am I correct in guessing that," Steve coughs lightly. "excuse me, that you've been relatively successful in your books?"

She stiffens slightly. What planet was this man from? She couldn't walk down the street in peace without being bombarded and he virtually had never heard of her books! "I've had the title for the #1 selling book three years in a row."

"Oh." Steve asks nicely. "What was it called?"

"They were called, 'The dance,' 'Always,' and 'Out West'. All three were dramas and they just happened to be fortunate to hold that title." Honestly. This oh-so-innocent, Luke Skywalker/Farmboy act was starting to get on her nerves. "I've managed to make enough to own a suite where I can wring out more works for the adoring public."

Sam speaks up. "Sound like you don't care for what you write."

She nods her head curtly. "Right you are. People are stupidly sentimental, so for me, I consider my works to be comedies. It's not my fault people are 'moved' by them."

* * *

Steve studies the petite blonde-haired woman in front of him. The sunglasses that she's insisting on wearing shade her eyes. She was very pretty, but very bitter and unfriendly. He thought there was a kind person who'd saved him. Instead, he saw a cold woman. She looked as cool as a cucumber in a mint green business suit.

"Then why do you write?" He asked her. "If you dislike it, maybe you could find something else."

"True." She shrugs. "But due to circumstances beyond my control, it is impossible for me to find suitable employment. I've been told I have a sarcastic wit and its helps to put food on my table and money in my account."

"That's….an unusual theory."

"No stranger than Jane Austen's." She says tightly, a sign that her patience is wearing thin. "She wrote for money as well. Though her motives were to provide for her family."

"Well," Sam said patiently. "your parents must be proud of you accomplishments."

"My parents, dumped me with my grandmother because they couldn't deal with a blind girl." She says coldly. "They then moved to London and became citizens. I haven't seen them since I was six."

There. That explained the bitterness and distrust about her. She was blind as well, he hadn't really realized it. Her sunglasses weren't dark. They were a normal pair of sunglasses. She didn't have a cane with her. He glanced at Sam. He nodded his head with understanding about her situation.

"My grandmother died a year later and I was taken to my aunt, who put me in foster care because she couldn't afford a third child when she was expecting her second. I haven't seen her since then either." She turned to go, but added for good measure. "I did hear from my parents again, five years ago after I had my first book published. They wanted to reconcile, but I refused and my guard Nathan found out that they were broke. They wanted the money. I've slapped them with a restraining order and will not be hearing from them again."

Sam clears his throat. "Sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. It's for the best. There's a saying in the Bible, "if thy right arm has angered you, then cut it off'." She shifts a little. "They were my right arm, and I've cut it off."

Steve speaks up quietly. "Have you considered therapy?"

She looks at him with a glare. "No. Why?"

"Because," he speaks gently, studying her language. "I think that you need someone to talk to."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because….you just told your whole history to two strangers." She stiffened. "I've been in your shoes before and frankly…I still am somewhat. I do know that helps when you talk to someone. Tell me that you'll think about it."

She clears her throat. "I think…you should mind your own business." Her tone is cold and sharp as a whip. "I didn't want to come here in the first place. Now I'm going to do what I wanted to do since you woke up. And that is leave!"

She turns to the door and stalks out without a glance. She crashes into a doctor, but keeps going, her head held high and stiff. Sam whistles lowly. "There's….a woman who'd cause the Hulk shaking in terror."

Steve smirks. "I doubt it. Banner maybe, but not the Hulk."

Sam shrugs. "If you say so. Still," Sam smirks and begins to chuckle. "I can just see her, shouting at Hulk to get his huge carcass out of her way."

Steve laughs. "Maybe. But all things considered, she has a right to be a little upset."

"Maybe. I don't think she has any friends outside of her guard and book characters. She must be lonely and that adds to the hostility."

"Did you tell her I was Captain America?"

Sam shakes his head. "I don't think so. Why? Does it matter to you?"

"Not really." Sam doesn't seem to believe him. As always, Sam sees through him like a windowpane. "Well, for once….I'd like someone to know me as just plain old Steve Rogers. Not as Captain America. Is that…too much to ask?"

Sam exhales. "No, it's not too much to ask. But being open and honest isn't too much to ask either."

Steve has no comment, for he knows that Sam is right. All he can say is. "She needs help Sam. She saved my life. I'd like to help her."

Sam nods. "Fine. Keep telling yourself that. But make sure you mean it and that you're not helping yourself. Don't be taking advantage of her blindness to get what you want." At Steve's questioning gaze, he adds. "You cannot hide what you are. You are Captain America. If Clark Kent had revealed his identity to Lois at some point in their relationship, she wouldn't have been so hurt when she found out."

He frowns. "Superman tells Lois who he is?"

Same exhales. "Just get some sleep. Ten to one, you won't be able to find her anyway. And even if you do, getting in that front door is another situation."


	3. 3: A strange man

Chapter three: A strange man

* * *

_A week later,_

* * *

Calantha ran her fingers carefully over the button of the treadmill, finding the speed button. Once she found it and pushed it, ordering the walker to move a little faster. She hated being blind. She'd hated it for years. Her blindness had cost her everything she'd held dear. Her parents had left her; her grandmother was scared for her while she lived. Her aunt kept her for only a week before turning her over to the state.

She remembered the cruel things the children did to her. Drinking liquids and having to make sure that there weren't any bugs in it. Tripping over ropes that they'd pulled in front of her, throwing books at her and there wasn't a single adult who cared enough about the children's actions.

Nate was her only friend. She'd bumped into him when she was trying to get across the street at 17. She'd run away from the foster home and was trying to get as far away as possible. He was kind, and after hearing her story, he took her home to his parents. His mother taught her how to do a form of cooking so she could take care of herself. For her birthday, Nate had bought her the program that allowed her to 'type' words out. Nate actually sent her first book in and she was shocked when she realized that they actually thought her book was good enough. They thought it was even better that she was blind and the press had a field day with her. Winning the #1 book slot was a small accomplishment for her.

She had enough money to pay back Nate and his family for their kindness and generosity to a poor orphan girl like her. They'd refused the money directly, but Nate was in need of a job and he'd offered himself as her chauffer. She'd been opposed to the idea, but for some reason Nate liked it. Said it made him feel like some character out of Downton Abbey. And not to mention he got to go anywhere with here in the country for virtually free.

Her fame had also served as a beacon for her greedy parents. She'd hung up on them the moment they said their names. She had Nate issue an immediate restraining warrant and then ordered a police investigation to find out what they were really up to. She wasn't surprised to find out that they needed money so desperately. They abandoned her and left her. Why did they think they were entitled to her money? Why should she help them?

The anger fuelled her and she pushed the speed up faster. She overshot the end of the walker and fell off, wrenching her arm and bumping her chin hard. She gasped and held onto her chin, feeling blood from her chin in her hand.

She gasped and wiped her chin with the other hand as the door opened. Nate gasped. "Miss! Are you all right?"

She nodded as she felt a strong, unfamiliar presence beside her. She glanced that way as the man spoke. "She clipped herself pretty good."

"What are you doing here?"

Steve Rogers ignored her. "She needs an ice pack, it'll stop the swelling."

Her voice rose. "I said," she wrenched her arm away from his. "what are you doing here?!"

Silence filled the room, aside from the treadmill. Steve pulled her up and turned it off. "I wanted to see you." His tone is deep and calm, but it's not soothing to her.

"Well, I don't want to see you!"

"With all due respect, you can't." she froze in place. "I wanted to talk to you." He stepped closer to her. "You can't tell someone your whole history without signaling that you want someone to talk to."

"What…are you?" she bites out. "Are you a counselor?"

"No. I'm just a friend."

"I don't have friends."

"Then maybe that's why you need me."

His blunt words can't help but intrigue her. Nate takes her hand and places the icepack in it. Steve's hand is warm, rough and calloused. She's silent in thought for a moment. She didn't have any friends and she didn't know why he wanted to be her friend. She could have Nate look him up to see if he was in need of money or anything unsavory.

Still, it couldn't hurt to be a little civil to someone. Especially some who'd served their time in the military. Not to mention, she'd been bored lately. Meeting someone new and experiencing different things would serve their inspirational purpose and free her mind from the chains of writer's block. "So, you're into sports?" She asks, changing the subject completely. "Outdoor activities?"

"Yeah." He sounds a little surprised by her abrupt subject change.

"Like what?"

"Running, shooting, military action."

She nods as she smoothly lies. "I forgot, you're in the military Mr. Rogers."

"Please," he asks her. "just call me Steve."

She nods. "As you wish…Steve." She clears her throat. "May I….touch your face? I hate talking to people without some sort of visual aide in my mind."

"Oh sure, go ahead."

She reaches out and her hand touches his chest. She brings her hand up slowly, taking in the sculpted muscles that she can feel under the T-shirt. She tilts her head to the side. "I gather you're into major workouts."

He shrugs. "Kinda."

She brings her hand up to his neck, he's taller than she is, almost a foot taller. She finds his jaw and brings her hands up over his mouth. Then she carefully traces the bridge of his nose and forehead. His hair is cut short in a military style.

"What color is your hair?"

"Brown, light."

"And..your eyes?"

"Blue."

She nodded, committing this information to memory. "Won't you sit down Steve?"

He's silent for a moment before asking. "Would you like to go for a run?"

Those were the most bizarre words anyone ever asked her. She's momentarily stunned before responding to him as if she were talking to a child. "I'm blind. I can't run."

"You like to run. You were running before you fell."

"It's safer on the walker. Nothing for me to bump into, I just overshoot several dozen times."

"You've never run with me before. I promise," he said placing a hand on her waist. Warmth flooded her at his touch. She'd never been touched by a man other than Nate. She told herself that it wasn't attraction. It was a physical reaction. "no harm will come to you."

Nate spoke up. "I think you should try it."

"We can test it down the hall."

"How?"

"Follow me." She and Nate followed him out of her suite into the long hall. Steve took her right hand in his left, locking her hand in a firm grip. "You're a little shorter than me."

"A lot. Don't lie."

He chuckled. "All right….a few inches then. Now, we're going to start off slow first. Let me be your eyes."

That was a difficult proposition for her. She'd never let anyone be anything for her, least of all her eyes. And what was it about this Steve Rogers that could make her furious one second, then completely calm and compliant the next?

She nodded. "All right. But…if you cause me to trip over something captain, I will murder you."

He laughs lightly and she can imagine that he's smiling. She finds herself vexed that she's wondering that all ready. "I have no doubt you'll try ma'am."

And this time, she didn't even bother to correct him.


	4. 4: Emotions never known

Chapter four: Emotions never known

* * *

_Almost two weeks later,_

* * *

Calantha grip tightened around Steve's hand as they ran past the Lincoln memorial. Sweat painted her head, but she was happy, very happy. So happy she feared that her heart might burst.

"Slowing down." Steve said and she slowed to match her pace to his. She inhaled deeply as they slowed down to a walk. Steve's hand went to her elbow and he nudged her towards 'their' bench. She coughed lightly as she sat down on the bench. Steve took her hand and placed her water bottle in his hand.

On their first run, she discovered that he ran without water, which she thought unusual, but she soon realized Steve ran a vigorous pace. She hadn't thought to bring one and she was thirsty once the run was over. Steve, being the perfect gentleman, had promised he'd carry her water bottle every day on his back in a small backpack for her. So far, he'd proved to be very honorable about it.

Nate and Sam ran with them, but they ran at a much slower pace. Sam said he preferred Nate, because Nate was far less humiliating than Steve was. Nate, at first was going just to keep an eye on her. Then he decided that he'd like to lose some weight and he decided that running was a good way to do it.

She loved to run. It gave her something to burn off, her emotions, stress from work and general moodiness. As she gulped her water, she realized that for the first time that she'd time in her life she'd actually felt…free, even with Steve holding onto her hand. She'd never known completeness or freedom like this before. Running with Steve, it made her feel like she was an eagle, flying through the sky.

At that moment, she paused, deep in thought. She realized in that moment that….she'd never done anything like this before Steve came around. In addition, she wasn't a nice person. She'd been cold, rude and snappish towards him. Still, in spite of everything, he'd refused to give up on her. Moreover, she'd never even said thank you to him. Now that she thought on it, she rarely said thank you to anyone.

Steve nudged her. "You ok?" She nods and looks down at the ground. Steve doesn't buy it though. "That's not a very convincing look. Come on Cal," she rolled her eyes and smirked. He'd taken to calling her Cal lately, and his pet nickname irritated her beyond belief. But he only called her that when he was in a joking mood. "I know you. What is it?"

"It's just that," she bites her lip before taking another gulp of water. She almost wished that she had something stronger than water. Something like….cranberry juice with a lot of lemon juice in it. "I just….realized something. I just," she inhaled and blurted out. "realized that…. for the first time ever. I've actually felt…carefree, free even and…I've never….even said thank you to you." The words started to flow easier for her. "I spent years…locked up in my room, hating myself, the public, having my own pity party. You….came along, and you didn't care about all the prickles and everything. You didn't give up on me. And….I'd like to thank you for…helping my life begin all over again."

She was at this moment grateful that she was blind. And yet at the same time, wishing that she wasn't. she wanted to see his face, yet, she was worried at what she would see if she could. Steve was silent and she couldn't stand it. She jumped up and turned around. She'd run this track enough times. She was certain she could walk to where Sam and Nate were running towards them.

But, Steve's hand on hers caused to stop. She held her breath, wondering what he was doing. She felt his hand on her cheek and she jumped slightly in surprise. He didn't remove his hand from her face though, in fact, he was stroking her cheek tenderly. She fought the urge to bury her cheek inside his hand.

"Don't give me all the credit," Steve said softly. "you had the guts and nerve to find the courage to do something that wasn't easy to do. You saved my life….I thought I'd return the favor."

She followed the curve of his arm to his shoulder, to his neck. "You went above and beyond the call of duty, Steve. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Did his voice sound a little hoarse to her own ears? What was he doing? He hadn't moved his hand from her cheek and she didn't move her hand from his neck. She wasn't going to move a muscle until he did. His breathing was a little heavier than normal and she felt him shift forward. She frowned slightly, wondering what he was doing. Then, she felt his lips on her forehead. She didn't know what to do. She'd never, ever been kissed before by any man, other than her father, but surely, those didn't count in a moment like this.

The sounds of gasping laughter caused Steve to pull away. "It's Sam and Nate."

Her face flushed red as she dropped her hand from his neck and turned towards them. She flushed red as they came running towards them, gasping for breath. "About…..time." Nate gasped out."

"Yeah." Sam said with a smile in his voice. "We were waiting for one of you to make a move."

For once, the writer couldn't think of a single word to say. Steve had some however. "Nobody made a move."

Nate snorts. "Sure. You two are so….focused on kissing that you didn't even notice us coming!"

She glowered. "We weren't kissing!"

"Really?" Sam didn't seem to buy it. "I think we should have waited a bit and then seen what was going to happen."

"A kiss is to touch or caress with the lips as an expression of affection, greeting, respect, or amorousness." She rattled off. "A kiss has many definitions. A single kiss on the forehead doesn't signify that we're," she caught her breath. "dating or anything."

"Well," Nate said. "we both think you should be!"

She reached out for Steve's hand. "Why are we listening to them? We can outrun them anyway."

"Yeah." He caught her hand and turned her around. Moments later, they were running away from Sam and Nate's laughter. Once their laughter was out of hearing, Steve spoke up. "I don't suppose….you'd like to go out with me one night."

Her heart caught in her chest for a second, throwing her off sync with Steve's footsteps, but she caught back on step. "I might."

"So….how about it?"

"How about what?"

Steve exhaled and slowed his pace until they were standing still. "Would you go out with me, on a….date, some time?"

She hesitated. "I don't know."

"Or….we can go just as friends." He added. "Or, I could come over to your place, whichever makes you feel comfortable."

She bit her lip and nodded. "I guess…once never hurt anybody. All right Steve, I'll go out with you." She could practically feel the tension roll off his shoulders. "But….on one condition."

"What is it?"

"You promise not to tell Sam or Nate?"

He laughed. "No problem there!"


	5. 5: Like being here

Chapter five: Her first date

* * *

She was so scared. Her heart pounded in her throat and her hands shook as she attempted to apply her red lipstick. Her fingers felt slick with sweat as she went to touch the tip of her lipstick to her mouth.

A knock on the door caused her to jump, smearing her lipstick across her face. "What?" her voice shook slightly in fear.

"Calantha," Nate's voice held a several melodious notes of a teasing. "your date's here."

"Oh no! Nate! Come in!" she looked towards the door. "I need help!"

He chuckles. "All right. So you are nervous."

"Shut up! I am not nervous!"

"Then why are you shrieking at me?" she bit her lip and refused to answer him. "You're right, it's your first date and I shouldn't be teasing you. Sit still." He carefully wiped away the lipstick. "You don't have to be nervous. Steve checks out ok, he has a squeaky-clean record. He hasn't even had a parking ticket!"

"And that should make me feel better?"

"Yeah." Nate pulls her up and pulls the white scrunchie from her hair. "There!"

"Nate!" she complained as he pushed her hair back from her face. "I don't like my hair out."

"You look so beautiful when you let your hair down."

"Literally or figuratively speaking?"

"I'll answer that question tomorrow when I see how much trouble you've gotten into." Nate guided her towards the door. "There you go."

"Nate." She paused. "Do I look all right? Is yellow ok?"

"Yes. You look beautiful, yellow is your best color." He nudged her towards the door. "Here she is."

"Hi." She jumped, not anticipating Steve to be so close to her. She smiled and wiped her hands on her dress. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She cleared her throat and Steve took her arm, guiding her towards the door. "Thank you."

"Oh, do you need a coat?"

"Well, where are we going?"

"Oh to radio music hall, there's a Gershwin tribute concert, it's their last night. I got us balcony seat, the sound travels better."

"Sounds wonderful. My coat, should be hanging on the hanger by the door."

"I've got it."

"Thank you." Steve helped her into her coat. "How did you know Gershwin is one of my favorite composers?"

She could imagine him shrugging. "Because…he's one of my favorites as well. I grew up listening to his music."

She nodded. "As did I, my grandmother loved his works and she passed her love for his beautiful talents to me." She wrapped an arm around her waist. "Shall we go?"

* * *

The concert was wonderful; it had had collection of so many of George Gershwin's beautiful songs and compositions.

Rhapsody in blue.

Embraceable you.

Our love is here to stay.

S'wonderful.

They can't take that away from me.

Summertime.

And that was just a few of the beautiful works of art that were played that evening. Steve was the perfect gentleman all evening. Helping her with her coat, finding her seat and fetching the refreshments. The choice for the date, was absolutely perfect. It didn't require her to see to be able to enjoy it, in fact, she was able to concentrate solely on the music.

Steve, was somehow able to get access to the backstage and she got to meet the conductor. They had an enjoyable discussion about Gershwin, his life, his music and the inspirational impact that he left of people with his music.

"So," Steve said as he guided her towards the nearest exit. "do you want me to take you home?"

"Not unless you want me to go home." He laughed and she joined in with him. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time. I don't want to go home yet."

"Good, because I got one last surprise for you."

"What is it? A trip to the moon?"

He laughs. "No. I'll try to arrange that for our next date."

"All right." They stepped out into the busy street and they moved forward. "Easy." Steve said, catching her and pulling her back. "We're not going to ride in a car."

"What is it?" She asked. "Are we walking?"

"No. I was able to rent a horse drawn carriage for the evening." He explained as he helped her up into the carriage, making sure that she was settled before hopping in beside her. "I thought you'd enjoy it."

"I would!" She sat down on the velvet seat and asked. "What color is the horse?"

"It's a solid white." She assumes that he turns to the driver. "Around the park a few times. And is your horse a boy or girl?"

"Female." The man has a thick Irish accent. "Her name is Aida. Don't ask…my wife called her that and I'm stuck with it."

Steve chuckled as he moved in closer to her. "And we males just don't have the heart to break their hearts do we?" Steve lowered his voice. "May I put my arm around you?"

She nodded. "You may."

"You cold?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm comfortable." The carriage moved ahead, in a gentle trot. She exhaled as she snuggled deeper into his side, wishing she could see the stars at this moment. "I like this…thank you for asking me Steve."

"My pleasure."

"I still don't know why you invited me, considering I've been so rude to you."

His fingers, were strong and rough as he brushed her cheek with them. "You're not that bad. Maybe a little cranky at first, but…I like you."

She smiled at the hesitancy in his voice. "And I like you too Mr. Rogers."

He cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I did something…rather impulsive at this moment?"

She shrugged. "It would depend. What is it?"

That's when he turned her to face him, or so she assumed. "This."

She sat there puzzled, but only for a few moments. For that's when she felt Steve's lips against hers. She trembled at this kiss, her first kiss, so soft, gentle, tender and beautiful. She wasn't sure how to react to it. She'd never even seen people kiss since she was a child. Nowadays, everything sounded disgusting, as if they were trying to such each other's mouth's clean of saliva or eat each other's face off. This one…was the kiss that would make one wonder if Peter Pan had visited you in the night, because it certainly lifted you up into the clouds.

The kiss wasn't long, Steve was obviously being considerate that maybe she wasn't used to kisses and she was glad. He was one of a kind. He separated, waiting for her to spoke, but for once, the writer was without words. She smiled as she gently brought her hand up to touch her fingers to her mouth.

After a few moments of pleasantly awkward silence, she said. "I believe….Steve…that we're going to have to be doing some more of that in the future."

Steve exhaled and laughed as he draped his arm back about her shoulder. "Indeed we shall Calantha."


End file.
